Chapter 34 - Twilight Topaz

The applause lingered longer than Celeste expected, bouncing off around the arena, rippling through the air with every clapping sound. Her heart raced with a mix of disbelief and joy, each beat resonating with the triumphant roar of the crowd. They had won. They had really and truly won. She and Powder—

Her eyes locked onto her Vulpix, peacefully snoozing in the middle of the battlefield. Without a second thought, she dashed to her side, scooping her up and running her fingers through the fluffy hair-puffs. She hugged her tightly, feeling the softness of her Pokémon against her chest.

Powder stirred, her large blue aurora eyes blinking open, and first, darting around in confusion before settling on Celeste herself. The familiar sight of her trainer’s gentle smile made her relax, if only a little. She nuzzled Celeste’s shoulder with her snout and looked at her expectantly.

“We won,” Celeste whispered. The words still felt surreal as they left her lips. She held Powder tighter but stopped when her Vulpix winced. Her leg was injured. During the battle, Powder had fought bravely through the pain, but now she needed rest. And a potion. Or better yet, a visit to the Pokémon Centre. “You were marvellous, Powds,” Celeste said, gently touching her Vulpix’ leg.

“You both were,” Lori said, approaching with her Smoochum’s Pokéball still in hand. Despite the defeat, she looked perfectly happy as she crouched to meet Celeste at eye level. “The way you two are growing, I need to watch out,” she said with a soft smile.

Man, if the woman with the Lapras said that...

Well...

Celeste blushed and babbled an incoherent thank you. Before she could embarrass herself further, Aria came to the rescue. The Eevee tackled her trainer’s back and climbed onto her shoulders, grinning broadly at Powder. Celeste almost lost her balance, but Aria didn’t seem to mind. She was so excited and energetic that anyone watching would think she’d won the battle.

With a giggle that wouldn’t leave her features, Celeste steadied herself.

Soon after, Delia and Luan arrived, with Pat swishing his tail in Luan’s arms and his Munna perched on his head. Celeste had left her other Pokémon with them for a better view of the battle. Luan set her Slowpoke down, who immediately waddled over to Celeste, placing his front legs on her lap and blinking rapidly.

Everything was perfect now. She could be here forever.

“Your Pokémon were really nervous, Cee. You almost gave them a heart attack,” Luan chuckled, watching his Munna float curiously towards Celeste and her team. The Munna blew his trunk in what seemed like congratulations before spinning back to his perch.

“It was Celeste’s team who was nervous alright,” Delia said, nudging Luan and laughing. Poor Luan’s face turned shades of red. Delia’s cluelessness was almost perverse, yet she kept talking, seemingly unaware. “He was so nervous he wouldn’t even peek in the end.”

Celeste, too happy to let Luan suffer like that, raised her eyebrows at him meaningfully before changing the subject. “I’ve heard there’s a prize for the winner, courtesy of Razzo Cosmetics. Any idea what it is?”

“O… Of course,” Luan stammered, recomposing himself. “Mia made me go TM shopping because she thought the prize we had was lame.”

“Uhh TM! What d’ya get us?” If Celeste had a tail, it’d be wagging as excitedly as Powder’s at the mention of a prize.

Luan shook his head. “Not just a TM. It’s a whole thing, and it’s meant to be a surprise.” He turned to Lorelei, who was still around, and added, a little shyer, “There’s also a second-place prize.”

“Come on! Tell us!” Celeste insisted. “Or better yet, give it to us already.”

“And here I thought you’d start behaving gracefully now you’ve won against the other baby Pokémon,” Rey said, joining the group with his mother and her Vanillite trailing behind.

Celeste turned to Rey, ready with a witty comeback, but he didn’t have his usual smugness. He wasn’t smirking this time. Hell, he wasn’t even smiling. He looked annoyed, but also like he couldn’t care less about Celeste’s victory.

She narrowed her eyes. “Thanks... I guess.”

“Mmhm,” he muttered.

His lack of reaction was unsettling. “I guess we are pretty amazing,” Celeste said, holding her nose up high.

“Whatever you say,” Rey murmured, a loose strand of his silver hair falling over his eyes. He jerked his head to the side, groaning. Just like his mother.

Speaking of which…

It took Celeste a moment to untangle herself from the pile of Pokémon surrounding her. A little too shyly, she stood and walked towards Olga, offering a small, respectful bow. “I couldn’t have done this without you. Thanks so much for putting up with me these past two weeks. I know it wasn’t easy.”

Olga, as usual, was quiet, but Celeste could see the hint of a smile beneath the lines on her face. After an awkward moment, Olga dipped her head in return. That was all Celeste would ever get, and… that was actually fine.

“Do you need a potion?” Olga asked, gesturing to Powder’s injured leg.

Celeste gently touched her Vulpix’s injury but shook her head. “I think it’s better to go to the centre so she can rest and heal properly.”

“Good luck escaping mother,” Rey said under his breath, drawing a mix of reactions. Olga sneered, and Lorelei chuckled. Celeste, not understanding, darted her eyes between Rey, Olga, and Lori. Finally, Lori stood up, grabbed a potion from her bag, and handed it to Celeste.

“Am I missing something?” Celeste asked, staring at the potion.

Lori insisted she take it and gestured to a group of people on the other side of the battlefield. An Abomasnow carried a bunch of wooden planks on its shoulder while the humans with it were busy assembling a small stage with a podium on the side.

“Today is the last day of the festival,” Lori said, her eyes darkening with a distant memory, though she continued smiling. “There’s an award ceremony this evening. You and Powder don’t want to miss it, do you? It’s in a few hours.”

Celeste blinked, focusing on the others behind Lori. Rey was grumbling to Luan, while Olga and Delia discussed something about Viridian City. Going to the centre could take a while, and Powder wasn’t badly hurt. They could enjoy the festival and the only way for them to attend the closing ceremony together would be if her Vulpix wasn’t in the centre. She took the potion and gently cupped Powder’s snout with her free hand. “Are you okay with just a potion for now?” she asked.

Powder responded with an enthusiastic, if slightly uncoordinated, wag of all her tails. That was a definite yes. Celeste sprayed the potion on her Vulpix’s leg, relief washing over Powder’s face. Then she studied the injury for a moment, still unsure if the potion was enough. For her concern, she got stomped—cutely, by a Pokémon that wasn’t so heavy but wanted to make a point, just like her big sister had taught her.

“You really ought to stop listening to Aria,” Celeste grinned, only to be nudged by said Eevee. Aria smirked, and they all turned to Pat. “Don’t you dare headbutt me!” she warned. Instead, the Slowpoke let out the largest yawn. “Paaaawwt!” Her voice dragged as she stifled her own yawn.

Lori smiled at Celeste but said nothing about whatever it was she was doing with her Pokémon. “Unfortunately, Crystal wasn’t as lucky as your Pokémon.” She stretched her arms, trying to loosen up. “I need to take her to the Centre. Might leave my other Pokémon there for a checkup, too. By the way, Olga...” she hesitated, turning more serious. “I want to leave for Cinnabar as soon as my Pokémon are healed. Tomorrow, if I can... but… that ranger...”

“Don’t worry about it,” Olga said, half-turning to her. “If he asks about the Lapras again, I’ll say something came up and you’re not available.” She looked up at the sky. “Want to beat the storm this year?”

Lorelei nodded. “I checked Cinnabar’s gym calendar. Leader Blaine will be on holiday from late November to the end of January. If I miss my window, I’ll have to wait months for my last badge. You can tell the ranger the Lapras are supposed to continue their migration, anyway. It’s... not a lie.”

“You’re justifying yourself too much,” Olga said, crossing her arms. “Do what’s best for you and don’t worry about him.”

Lorelei smiled faintly. “By the way, I visited the shrine this morning. Are you taking the others there?”

Celeste, only half-listening, perked up. She had never heard of a shrine here. Were they religious on Four Island?

“I was taking Rey,” Olga shrugged. “But...” she glanced at Celeste and Delia. “These two also have a lot to be grateful for.”

The girls exchanged a look. Delia seemed as clueless as Celeste about this shrine business. Rey, however, was clearly familiar with it and, unsurprisingly, vocal about it.

And also obnoxious.

“It’s a waste of time, but mother and the old folks here always indulge in it this time of year,” he intruded on the conversation. “You go to a musty old shrine, light a candle, then litter the ocean with it. Honestly, I don’t know how you agree with that, Lorelei. It’s probably bad for your precious Lapras.”

Lori seemed unbothered. “The candles are made with Combee wax. They’re sustainable. Come on, Rey, you should be proud of your cultural heritage.”

“I am... very lost,” Celeste said, looking at Delia’s and Luan’s equally confused faces.

Olga grunted. “The only waste of time here is all this talking. A little history appreciation will be good for all of you.” She turned to Lorelei and nodded. “See you at the closing ceremony.”

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“History appreciation?” Celeste frowned.

“What did you think this festival was even about?” Olga grabbed Rey’s wrist like he was a toddler and tugged him along as she left the battlefield. She gave one last glance at the others’ confused expressions and added, “I can guarantee you, the Ice-Fall Festival isn’t just about some battles and ice-cream.”

—*——*—

Despite the plummeting temperatures, the town’s streets were alive with the hustle and bustle of people enjoying the final day of the festival. The afternoon sun cast a warm glow over the ocean, drawing people to the sandy beach. Groups lounged on the sand, chatting, laughing, and sipping hot drinks. Others wandered through the vibrant array of stands offering last-minute sales. Amidst the lively atmosphere, a boy and a girl were cheerfully experimenting with different eyeshadows at a nearby café caught Celeste’s attention. She typically wouldn’t have noticed, but the brand on their makeup kit caught her eye: Razzo Cosmetics.

“Razzo is really leaving their mark here, huh,” Celeste muttered, looking down at Powder nestled in her arms. Her Vulpix tilted her head, confused, but being the cutest wittle baby ever. She squeezed Powder closer and smiled.

Up ahead, Olga continued to drag Rey along, determinedly leading the way to their destination. She had let go of his arm, but Vanillite hovered close, keeping a watchful eye on him. Lagging a bit behind, Delia strolled absentmindedly, while Luan marched nervously beside her in awkward silence. Further back, Pat and Aria formed their own duo. Celeste had tasked her Eevee with keeping the Slowpoke company, ensuring he didn’t fall behind. Aria’s interpretation of the task involved perching on Pat’s back and hitch a ride, like all the energy from earlier, was gone.

After a quick check on Aria and Pat, Celeste skipped up to Olga, who maintained a brisk pace. “Can we slow down a little?” she asked, gesturing to the Pokémon lagging behind. Olga responded with a silent frown, her gaze fixed on Rey.

Celeste rolled her eyes. Olga was in one of her not-answering-questions moods. Typical. Miss Grouchy couldn’t just celebrate with them all, could she? But Celeste wasn’t one to back down easily. She smirked mischievously.

“Soooo,” Celeste began, pointing to the clear blue sky above them, “you told Lori there would be a storm tomorrow. How come?”

Olga remained silent, her pace unchanged.

“And why are you taking us to a shrine?” Celeste continued, gesturing towards Rey. “And why does he hate it so much? What’s the festival really about? And oh! Follow-up, what deity do you worship here in Kanto? Is Four Island the same as Kanto? Actually, who named this place Four—”

“Celeste!” Olga groaned, rubbing her temples without breaking her stride. Her eyes scanned for Vanillite, who had wandered off to investigate some commotion up ahead. So she simply grumbled again.

“Are you going to answer anything, or should I come up with the next batch of—Ouch!”

Celeste bumped into someone standing in the way. No, not just someone—a crowd had gathered, watching something up ahead. Vanillite emerged from the agglomeration, twirling and sprinkling happy snowflakes over Olga. Celeste had never seen him so… lively before.

After ensuring Pat and Aria were still trudging along, Celeste followed Olga, cutting through the crowd to see what had captivated Vanillite. She wriggled her way through until she could finally rise on her tiptoes to see over the heads.

It was not what she expected.

“A puppet show?” she whispered, glancing at Powder, who was also craning her neck to get a better view. Celeste lifted her Vulpix higher, then scanned for the others.

To her surprise, Olga was actually smiling at the puppets. Not too far away, Celeste caught a glimpse of Rey slipping behind Delia and Luan, sneaking towards the other side of the street, his eyes never leaving his mother until he disappeared behind a stall.

Lite really shouldn’t have got distracted.

“Not my problem if Olga loses him, right?” Celeste whispered to Powder, who was too entranced by the puppets to respond. “What’s this all about, anyway?”

The Vulpix never answered, but Celeste finally turned her focus to the show. The theatre cart where the performance took place exuded an old-timey charm, with large, ornate wooden wheels intricately carved in a flowing design that seemed almost too delicate for wood. The middle section was plain blue, probably to avoid drawing attention from the main stage—a big opening on the side. Only the name of the troupe decorated that part of the cart. In big golden letters were the words “Twilight Topaz,” followed by the inscription, “A Puppeteer’s Travelling Troupe.” Celeste’s gaze moved to the wide-open window-stage where the puppets came to life...

Literally…?

Celeste squinted, looking for strings or rods, but the main puppet, a silver-haired, dark-skinned man, simply floated above a beautifully crafted wooden ship. It wasn’t just that. The waves below the ship were composed of stylised wooden boards, cut with precision and placed in layers, with each layer moving up and down in an undulating rhythm. Wooden-carved Magikarp even jumped up like they were alive. She turned her attention back to the main character. The puppet paced fluidly from one side to the other, eventually stopping before the sails, which were painted with a beautiful Vanillite. Smoke rolled in, and the puppet looked up at what seemed to be wooden storm clouds.

“No strings…” Celeste muttered, only to be shushed by a bark from Powder. “Glad you’re enjoying this.” She smiled at her Pokémon and actually shut up for once.

Easily distracted, Celeste began to look around some more. Olga had drifted away, but, more interestingly, she noted a few Pokémon sitting by a tree near the cart: a Smeargle with golden paint dripping from its tail and the largest Bibarel Celeste had ever seen.

“Powds,” she whispered. Celeste was never good at keeping quiet. “Look at the size of that Bib—”

“Mighty Thundurus!”

The puppet’s voice boomed like thunder (heh), drawing Celeste back into the show. The voice for the puppet guy was clearly female, but the actress did a good job of making her pitch deeper.

“Oh! Mighty Thundurus!” the puppet repeated, its voice breaking with emotion. It looked up at the storm clouds and continued its plea. “Or is this you, fearsome Tornadus? Is this our punishment for forsaking the devastated land you have left us? Are we not destined to find abundance?”

A radiant light emanated from within the cart, followed by a resounding bang. It was undoubtedly intended to simulate thunder, although it was definitely clanging pots. Still, props for the special effects. Celeste had no idea what the light was. The puppet, keeping up with its fluid motions, lowered its head over the bow of the ship.

Another ‘thunderclap’ resonated before it spoke again. “Our provisions are depleted, and we are adrift in this storm...” The puppeteer’s voice was emotive and resigned. “Is this our demise?” The puppet’s tone elevated until it was downright angry. “Is this the end of our cherished ambitions?”

A hush fell over the audience as the ship’s rocking motion gradually slowed and the spotlight closed in on the silver-haired puppet.

“No. I refuse to accept that,” it declared, extending its arms. “I am Captain Oliver Silverwind, do you hear? No storm shall deter me! No ocean shall quell our determination! I will find sanctuary for my people. This cannot be the end.”

A bolt of lightning illuminated the scene, and when the glow subsided, a bright blue star like thingie shone in the centre of the stage.

“Polaris…?” the puppet said slowly, as the audio effects quieted down. “Has the North Star come to guide us?”

Damn, Celeste was invested.

“Stop right there!”

Huh? What an odd direction—

She turned, quickly realising the shouting wasn’t coming from the stage. Pushing her way through the crowd was an officer Jenny, flanked by two other officers and a small, ratty man. Celeste saw Olga stomping towards Jenny, and on the back both the Bibarel and Smeargle stood up, somewhat startled.

That can’t be good.

“You don’t have a permit to operate here, miss,” the officer stated, knocking on the cart. “Please exit your... eh… vehicle.”

The two other officers flanked the exit of the cart while the small ratty man tapped his feet impatiently, grumbling to the police about not making a scene in front of the constituents. He ran a hand through his hair, trying in vain to cover his balding spots, and then he took a tissue from his suit pocket to wipe his brows. His politician’s smile was on full display, but it quickly twisted into contempt as he noticed something—or rather, someone—else.

“Mayor White,” Olga said dryly, stopping just before him. Maybe this could be even more entertaining than the puppet show?

“Olga,” the man—or apparently the Mayor—replied through gritted teeth. He pointed towards the theatre cart just as Jenny knocked on it again. “Is this your doing?”

Olga jerked her head towards the police officer. “Is this yours?”

The Mayor’s smile returned, but his face was turning redder. “Our esteemed chief of police is merely ensuring all visitors abide by the law.” He pivoted towards the crowd, waving and projecting his voice. “Making sure our festival runs smoothly is my top priority. Even on the very last day.”

Almost subconsciously, Celeste began moving through the crowd, closer to Olga. She was so fascinated that she didn’t notice herself stumbling forward until she fell down against Powder’s leg, making the Vulpix cry out and lots of heads turn to them.

“Sorry, Powds, I…” she looked from the Vulpix to the crowd. The Mayor and Olga were staring at her too.

“Isn’t this your new protégé?” the Mayor asked Olga, who groaned again before helping Celeste up. Before anyone could say a word, a loud thump came from the nearby cart. Emerging from within was a flustered girl, accompanied by a Mr Rime.

“Cool!” Celeste’s eyes shone. She’d seen Mr Rime on TV, but never up close. The girl beside him brushed her blue curls from her eyes—with irises on a more vibrant blue—and fixed her frock around her shoulders.

“Sorry… It gets cramped inside during shows,” she said, pointing to the pots, lights, and wooden boards piled inside the cart. She carefully put on a bowler hat and straightened up.

Celeste grinned. “Your outfit. You’re matching Mr Rime.”

The puppeteer girl looked from Celeste to the police and, though her smile was nervous, she smiled nonetheless. “Have we got a new fan?”

Olga placed a hand on Celeste’s shoulder and gave her a firm look, silently telling her to stay quiet. Celeste tried smiling at the girl, but ended helplessly watching as the two officers with Jenny approached. The puppeteer took a step back, and suddenly, the Bibarel and Smeargle positioned themselves protectively by her side, causing everyone else to move back. While it was natural for most people to feel apprehensive in the presence of a towering Bibarel, Celeste found it curious how the Mayor seemed terrified of the Smeargle instead. His eyes were fixed on the golden paint dripping from its tail, creating splatters wherever it swished.

Mayor White retreated behind Celeste and Olga.

This display gave the puppeteer girl some courage. She placed a hand on the Bibarel and nodded. “My troupe and I did nothing wrong. We’re just telling a story... Your story! This island’s history is—”

“And do you have a permit for that? Hmm? Hmm?” The Mayor was loud, bending slightly forward but still keeping his distance from the Smeargle.

“Mayor White,” officer—chief—Jenny’s voice was calm as she began. She avoided sudden movements, like she was facing a wild Pangoro and not a Bibarel. She took a deep breath and looked at the girl again. “This place is too crowded. We should settle this somewhere—”

Jenny never finished speaking. A crackle echoed, and the Mr Rime swiftly tapped its cane on the ground. The sound was like a gong, but not loud. Each tap sent ripples through the ground and air, distorting reality. Celeste felt her body tingle, her movements becoming slow and inconsistent. She tried to lift her arm, but it moved absurdly slowly, while her breaths picked up pace and her pulse quickened.

This definitely can’t be good.

Her eyes moved sluggishly to the puppeteer girl, who had seized the opportunity to escape. She was already on top of the Bibarel with her other Pokémon clinging to her, gaining distance fast despite the Bibarel’s clumsy sprint. And Celeste trained a Slowpoke, so that was saying something.

“Get back here!” Jenny’s words dragged, but eventually, she and the other officers managed to release their Growlithe, ready to give chase. Only when the girl had gone out of sight did everyone manage to move properly again.

Celeste kind of hoped the puppeteer girl escaped, though. She’d got a pretty big head-start.

“Don’t you think that’s going too far, White?” Olga’s voice cut through the air, sharp as a Pawniard’s blade. Her words were directed at the Mayor. “That kid wasn’t causing any harm.”

The Mayor let out an exasperated sigh. “She was inciting fanaticism. Don’t we get enough of that with your friends complaining about the festival already? The public doesn’t want to hear of your outdated traditions. They want a lighthearted festival with fun attractions to spend their money on.” To emphasise his point, he gestured towards the fading glow on the ground. “Can anyone honestly say she didn’t cause any harm?”

Olga gritted her teeth, and a swirl of snow began to envelop her Vanillite. “That is not—”

“Please, Olga.” Mayor White raised his hand, interrupting her. He chuckled, clearly pleased with himself, and continued, “I know you enjoy your fairy tales, and I allow you and your people to have your little shrine don’t I? But you would do well to remember that my vision for a better, grander festival is what attracted the big leagues to our doorstep. I am the one putting Four Island on the map. Razzo came here because of me.”

Olga said nothing, but Celeste felt a significant drop in temperature. It was the first time she had witnessed Vanillite actually willing to battle.

“Progress, Olga,” the Mayor said, grimacing at the ice cream-shaped Pokémon. “Time you fully embrace it.”

With those words, the Mayor departed, leaving Olga, Celeste, and their Pokémon amidst the dispersing crowd.

Olga took a decisive step forward, then abruptly halted, scanning her surroundings once again. “Where on earth is Rey?”